Fortune's Paradox
by Elena Tiriel
Summary: Short vignettes with a strange twist. An OFC arrives in Lothlorien and learns about the vagaries of that trickster, Fortune. Angst, romance, & horror. Warning: Irony! Features Rumil, Haldir, OFC.
1. Preface

**Fortune's Paradox**

**by Elena Tiriel**

  


**Disclaimer**: As always, I am not Tolkien, nor do I obtain any remuneration from his work, other than the gratification that it has imparted to this reader over the years.

**Rating**: PG for disturbing suggestions of violence.

**Dedication**: To Bryn for graciously permitting me to refer to her fascinating "_Notes from the Field_", for encouraging me to publish, and especially for inspiring me with her delightful sense of humor. Thank you, Bryn!

Special thanks go to Tanaqui, Mari Dole, AfterEver, Súlriel, Enros, Lindorien, Arquen, Marnie and some anonymous reviewers at HASA, who read my story and gave me feedback. Your help means so much to me!

  


**Author's Notes**

This is an exploration of perception: how an individual can interpret the same event in extremes, either positively or negatively, depending upon relatively subtle shifts in context or understanding. It is also a work of irony.

The story consists of two related vignettes, set several years apart, both narrated in the first person by an original female character. It is not an alternate universe; regrettably, Tolkien wrote so little about Haldir, Rúmil, and Orophin that there's hardly any canon to violate. The story line originates strictly from the book -- a pox on PJ for killing Haldir in the movie! **[1]**

Because these are merely short vignettes, I did not attempt to fill in the timeline. You'll have to supply your own imagination about how and why the transitional events occurred. Further, the story does not address any deep philosophical issues, such as the acculturation of a mortal into an Elven society **[2]**, or the consequences of close relationships between mortals and immortals. **[3]**

For you action/adventure fans: because this story occurs almost entirely in the mind of the narrator, there is very little action -- and much of that is merely implied. If you prefer tales of heroic deeds, you may wish to look elsewhere. **[4]**

Any constructive criticism or other feedback that you care to share with this first-time author would be most humbly appreciated.

One final appeal to the deities who smile upon talented fiction writers -- all of whom I adore and worship faithfully: Please forgive me for writing a classic Mary Sue. **[5]** My devil of a Muse is, at this very moment, sipping my Dorwinion red wine and chortling gleefully as I do penance for my mortification.

**Note**: in this story, single quotes (') indicate the narrator's real-time thoughts, whereas double quotes ("), as usual, indicate speech.

**Footnotes**

All these stories may be found on the Stories of Arda (dot-com), Henneth-Annun (dot-net), or FanFiction (dot-net) web sites.

**[1]**  
See "_The Revenge of the Wood Elf (Telerius galadh)_", by Orophins Dottir.

**[2]**  
See "_The Heir Apparent_", by Mirkwoodmaiden,

or "_Last Hope_", by AfterEver.

**[3]**  


See "_The Twilight_", by Aerlinnel,

or "_Namárië, Elessar_", by Joanna (AKA Joannawrites),

or "_The Last Grey Ship_", by ErinRua,

or "_A Word of Caution Regarding Hobbits_", by Baylor.

**[4]**  
See "_Battle of the Golden Wood_", by Marnie,

or "_History Lessons_", by Nilmandra,

or "_Land of Light and Shadows_", by Thundera Tiger.

**[5]**  
See "_Notes from the Field_", by B. Bnw (pseudonym: Bryn), "Chapter 2: Of Mating, Courtship, and the Mary Sue Effect". It is surmised that the protagonist of "_Fortune's Paradox_", by E. Tiriel, exemplifies an Aggregated Mary Sue per the definition in Bnw's treatise (specifically, a composite of the Tattered Unconscious and Orphaned, but not Beaten nor Amnesiac, Mary Sues. Strictly speaking, the Tattered status is a matter of conjecture; nevertheless, it may reasonably be inferred from the context despite the author's failure to present relevant empirical data.) This example does not, however, provide evidence either proving or disproving the hypothesis that the Aggregated Mary Sue is a separate biological species: The state of the protagonist's breeding capacity is undetermined at the time of this writing, but artificial intervention appears to have invalidated the experimental result. Refer to the section on "Enchanted Bedcovers" in "_The Influence of Magical Belief Systems on the Mating and Fertility Practices of T. galadh: A Statistical Analysis of Reproductive Outcomes_", by M. A. Johnson et al, in the "_Annals of Middle Earth Biological Sciences_", vol. 3, issue 14, pp. 159-265, ASIN 3589793238,

or "_The Mary Sue Litmus Test_", by M. Wilson, on which the protagonist of this story scored 15 out of a possible 170, placing her at the bottom of the "Borderline Character" (potential Mary Sue) category. The web address for this scholarly work and the following one may be found by doing a Google search on the keywords "Mary Sue",

or "_Essay: Self-Insertion and Mary-Sue-ism_". For the record, the author of this story disclaims any likeness to the protagonist, except for being "scared [witless] by orcs". However, under threat of prolonged interrogation and especially food deprivation, the author concedes one other similarity: a susceptibility to aviatocremnophobia. **[6]**

**[6]**  
Aviatocremnophobia: a profound fear of flying off precipices. 


	2. Lothlórien

**Fortune's Paradox**

  


**On the Outskirts of Lothlórien, the Golden Wood**

'_Safe. At last!_'

I stumbled to the nearest sapling, wrapped my sluggish arms around its trunk and held on with my last drop of strength, thanking Fortune that I had at long last reached the sheltering embrace of a forest.

Bereft, I laid my cheek against the smooth bark and finally released my sorrow-laden tears. I wondered whether I could subsist without the comfort of my family -- the steadfastness of my father's arms, the warm hugs of my mother after she read stories to us, the smiles of my younger sisters as I brushed their hair, or the delighted squeals of my baby brother when we tickled him. The answer was clear.

Slumping to the leaf mold-covered ground, depleted, still clinging to the tree, I let my leaden eyelids fall. As I descended into blessed oblivion, I offered my gratitude to Fortune for guiding me to so peaceful a place to meet my fate.

'_Orcs!_'

My eyes flew wide the instant I became conscious of movement near me. Darkness had fallen.

'_Fly!_'

Recklessly, I flung off the blanket '_Where did that come from?_' and bolted. The orc grabbed at me, but somehow I ducked out of reach. I gained my balance and fled blindly, panic lending wings to my feet.

'_Escaping! Oh, sweet Fortune!_'

But another beast hurtled headlong across my path and hooked its repulsive arm around my waist. It grunted as it slammed into the ground, dragging me down atop it. I thrashed desperately, trying to squirm away, but could not match its power. It pinned my back to its chest with one foul arm, then captured both my flailing arms firmly with the other. I kicked it with all my puny might. It rose, hoisting me up, then forced me down to my knees, immobilizing my legs between its rigid knees.

'_Trapped._'

The realization jolted me out of my disbelief. My limbs turned to ice. My eyes snapped shut. All I could hear was my rapid panting and my heart, pounding a frantic tattoo against my breast.

The orc imprisoning me bellowed a command in a strange language. '_It will kill me if I continue to struggle!_' I tried to decide whether to keep resisting (and perhaps earn a mercifully swift death) or to doom myself to unending agony, but then came the heart-stopping revelation: I had no choice -- no power -- over either my body or my fate. Fortune had deserted me. My stomach lurched.

"Oh, Eru, no!" I gasped involuntarily, terror contorting my face so forcefully that it felt like it was splitting into two halves. Inextricably bound, I let my head drop, surrendering to my despair.

I felt the first orc's filthy hand on my cheek. I tried to jerk my head away in disgust, but it twisted my face back again with a firm hand on my other cheek. '_Where are its claws? Can they retract them, like cats?_' It lifted my head and growled something at me, but I did not want to hear what savagery it was threatening to inflict. I tensed up, expecting it to either tear my face open with its claws or start... whatever it intended. My mind skittered away from that thought, away from the certainty that my torture would be brutal, degrading, excruciating... and prolonged.

'_Do not show fear!_' I admonished myself. But tears oozed out from under my eyelids, and my palms were soaked with sweat in my clenched fists. Or was it blood from digging my fingernails into them?

The orc tilted my face up higher, yelling. I couldn not resist its overwhelming strength, but I could squeeze my eyes even more tightly shut. '_They will have to rip my eyelids off if they want me to watch!_' I grasped at the solace of having one tiny bit of control, no matter how trifling.

The orc shouted directly into my face, over and over again. I tried to shut the noise out, dreading its ravings. The orcs that had overrun our farm days before had shrieked their bloodlust during their butchery and had grunted unceasingly over my mother and sisters. All the while, I had clutched desperately to the branches of my favorite yew tree, trying not to hear any more, afraid to move, afraid to breathe, afraid to cry, afraid to fall, silently beseeching Fortune to allow me to die, too... '_But, oh, Eru, please! Not by their loathsome hands!_'

'_What are they waiting for? Are they holding off just to torment me more? When are they going to start ripping me apart? Are they saving me for other abominations?_' 

'_And that incessant screaming! It will not stop! It just keeps getting louder and louder! Oh, Eru, please make it stop!_' My resolve shattered under the onslaught.

An anguished howl tore itself free from the confines of my hammering heart.

The abrupt slap stung my face and shocked me into silence. I cowered and held my breath, knowing that the ultimate ordeal was about to begin.

"Child, listen to me!" The demand was sharp and insistent. I flinched, and then frowned in bewilderment.

"Listen!" It squeezed my face momentarily, as if to catch my attention. "You are safe here."

'_This cannot be! Can it? Can this... this... creature be telling the truth?_' I tried to shake my head to rid my mind of that dangerous thought, but it still clasped my face, softly and... reassuringly?

I gasped and my mouth dropped open. "You are not... " My throat was so constricted, I could barely whisper. "Not... orcs?" I croaked. Hunching my shoulders, I awaited a reply, certain that it would extinguish my only glimmer of hope.

He laughed!

"_He nautha i em yrch_!" I didn't understand the comment that he directed over my shoulder, but the one holding me expelled his breath audibly and began to laugh also, relaxing his grip. And yet another, behind us, joined in. It was not the cruel jeering that I had expected; no, their merriment lilted through the trees like a jolly dance tune!

The man who had held me down gently lifted me to my feet, then stood by me and wrapped an arm loosely about my shoulders. He was still chuckling. I was trembling.

"Nay, child. We are not orcs." His voice was kind and inviting. "Open your eyes and look!"

I only dared to peek out from under one eyelid; the escaping tears clouded my vision for an instant. Then, even in the dark, I could discern a tall man gazing down at me, still cradling my face gently with his hands. And smiling! But this was no man like I had ever seen. He was golden-haired. Ethereal. Beautiful!

My eyes flew wide open. "Elf?" I managed to gasp.

His smile broadened. "Yes, child, we are Elves. I am Haldir, and this is my younger brother Rúmil beside you. Our brother Orophin stands guard yonder. We are guardians of the Golden Wood. You are under our protection now; I promise that no harm will befall you."

The second brother, '_Rúmil, did he say?_', said something to Haldir, who turned his attention back to me. "My brothers do not speak Westron, so Rúmil asked me to apologize for knocking you down and seizing you like that. You were about to run off the edge of the _talan_." He paused a moment, then brushed away my tears with his palms. "It was very fortunate that he stopped you in time, child. From this height, the fall would have killed you."

'_Talan?_' Puzzled by the strange word, I dumbly peered toward the forest and noticed that we were surrounded by the tops of the trees, not their trunks. It dawned on me that we were on a high platform, standing perilously close to the drop-off!

My brain reeled drunkenly. I tried to think of something sensible to say, but only gibbered witlessly. My body turned to ice. I started to shake violently and breathe in short gasps.

It was fortunate that Rúmil had remained beside me. When my knees buckled, he swept me up as if I were light as a leaf and carried me back to where some skins laid. Haldir bundled me in a blanket, then held me while Rúmil sat down, and gently placed me onto his brother's lap. Rúmil clasped me to his chest as one would hold a baby.

I should have pulled away, should have tried to recapture my dignity... but I had no control over my body.

By then, I was not only quaking, but tears were rolling from my eyes unbidden. A while later, tremendous wracking sobs began to escape from deep within my soul. Rúmil rocked me gently and rubbed my back, all the while humming and murmuring to me in their lovely lyrical language. I knew not his words, but his soft voice bespoke of comfort beyond measure.

It felt like an eternity before my tears were spent. My sobs had lightened into deep sighs, but even those came with increasing difficulty. Exhaustion permeated my being, causing my body to sag against Rúmil like leaden weights.

After exchanging some quiet words with his brother, Haldir said, "Come child, it is time to rest." He took me from Rúmil and set me down on the sleeping pallet, kneeling alongside and supporting my back against his shoulder. My gaze followed as Rúmil stood up and walked behind us, out of sight. I felt vaguely disappointed.

The chill of the air stung my wet cheeks until Haldir dried my tears with a soft cloth. He offered me water from a skin, and I gratefully swallowed some. But I shook my head sadly when he proffered an unknown type of yellow bread, feeling too weary to eat. He insisted that I take at least a bite, though, so I did. Chewing was arduous, but the bread tasted faintly of honey, and I had not eaten in days. I managed to eat two bites, mumbling my thanks. After a last sip of water, Haldir helped me lie back on the skins and covered me with a second blanket. 

Rúmil returned and sat cross-legged beside my resting place. As he reached down to stroke my brow, I noted with relief that he had changed into a dry tunic.

"Rúmil will sit with you awhile, child." Haldir stood up to leave. "Sleep well!"

"Haldir?" I whispered.

"Yes, child?"

"Would you please thank Rúmil for catching me? And tell him I am sorry for kicking him?"

Haldir gave me a wry smile. "He knows, child. But I will tell him anyway."

The last thing I saw from under drooping eyelids was Rúmil, smiling at me and laying his other hand over his heart in a gesture of forgiveness. His breath lingered, suspended in the frigid air before the unearthly beauty of his face. I smiled as heaviness fell over me.

  


**In Caras Galadhon, Seven Years Later**

"Why do you _lalaithgar_ me with your _henthlî_, beloved?" Rúmil's warm voice startled me; I had assumed he was still sleeping while I contemplated how Fortune had contrived to join our fates.

I hesitated. As much Sindarin as I had learned in the preceding years, there were still expressions that I did not understand at times, "_lalaithgar_" and "_henthlî_" amongst them.

My first impulse was always to turn and ask Haldir or another of my Westron-speaking friends to translate. However, since Rúmil and I were lying entwined in his bed '_No! It is **our** bed now!_' in the velvet stillness before first light, consulting with friends would have been... awkward.

"What do "_lalaithgar_" and "_henthlî_" mean, my husband? I am not familiar with these words."

I saw the wicked gleam in his eye as he flipped me onto my back and held me down. A feral grin split his face. "Perhaps I should demonstrate?"

He planted a soft kiss on my laughing lips and one on my chin, then lowered his face to my neck. But, instead of another kiss, he fluttered his eyelashes against my throat. I might not have known the Sindarin word for "tickle", but ticklishness I understood all too well! I giggled helplessly and tried to wriggle away, but he was far too strong to let me escape.

"Enough! Please stop!" I shrieked, powerless from laughing so hard. He released me, kissed the mirth-induced tears from my eyes, and then settled himself by my side, propped up on his elbow. His caress on my cheek calmed me; I leaned into his palm and smiled while catching my breath.

When I shivered a little from the cold, he pulled the down-filled comforter that graced our marriage bed up around my shoulders, enveloping me within the sheltering lattice of embroidered mallorn leaves. It had taken me nearly the entire year of our betrothal to sew it for him, always in secrecy.

"This quilt is beautiful, my love. You honor me greatly with such a gift, made by your own loving hands." He touched his hand to his heart, then reached for my hand and kissed it.

"I am so pleased that you like it! And I was also honored that the Lady herself placed an enchantment on it at our bonding ceremony. Is that customary among the _Galadhrim_?"

"It has been done before, but rarely. She endowed it with protective powers, so our marriage will be blessed with many children." He broke into a wide smile. "If you ever grow up enough to bear children, that is!"

"Oh, hush! When will I ever convince you that a mortal of twenty-two years is no longer a child?" I teased his tousled golden locks with my fingers.

"Never! You will yet be a child at the end of your days!"

I pressed a finger over his lips to quiet him. "Ah, but would a mere child have the power to capture the heart of such a mighty warrior? Do not forget, dear husband, 'twas you who fell, twice over! You fell in love with me...." Now it was my turn to grin savagely as I slowly brushed my fingers over the tip of his ear. "And you fell under my spell! Perhaps I should demonstrate?" I kissed his eager lips, softly at first.

The demonstration lasted 'til cockcrow.

As we lay together, spent, approaching sleep, he whispered into my ear. "My love, every day I thank Fortune for bringing you to the Golden Wood. To our home. And to me." Then he kissed my eyes shut.

I wrapped my arms tightly around him and nestled into his shoulder, smiling.

"Aye. 'Twas fortunate indeed," I sighed sleepily. "But who would suspect that Fortune has such a wicked sense of humor?"

  


**Back to the Beginning**

I was dreaming. Carried away by ecstasy, I sang my praises to Fortune for all the blessings she had bestowed upon me in the sheltering forest.

I delighted in the fact that I was safe, I was warm, and -- most thrilling of all -- I was loved! My high spirits bid me to throw caution to the winds. I spread my arms to celebrate the cool breeze caressing my cheek and proclaimed my joy to the universe. 

Paroxysms of agony ripped me from my reverie as I felt my legs shatter and my spine begin to crumple. '_NO! What is happ_'

Rúmil and Haldir stood on the edge of the _talan_ and gaped down in horror at the burgeoning cloud of leaf-mold. Orophin ran up behind his stricken brothers and pulled them into a strong embrace as they collapsed together and began to weep their bitter tears.

  


**The End**.

  


Translations of Sindarin Words and Phrases:

_Fíriel_ - Literally, 'mortal' (feminine). Used as an affectionate nickname for the protagonist by her husband, Rúmil. 

___Galadhrim_ - The Elves of Lothlórien; from _galadh_ 'tree'.

_He nautha i em yrch_! - She thinks that we (are) orcs!

_Henthlî_ - Eyelashes; literally 'eye-threads' or 'eye-filaments'.

_Lalaithgar_ - (You) tickle; literally 'cause-laughter'.

_Talan_ (plural _telain_) - A platform in the treetops. _Telain_ are used by the Elves of Lothlórien as living spaces and by their warriors as outlook posts.


End file.
